


Just When I'm Finding it Hard to Breath (You Lift the Weight Inside of Me)

by Lovelyziam



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Kidnapping, M/M, Swearing, brief mentions of death, brief mentions of violence, but really it's just a rip-off of the avengers bc I'm unoriginal, like they cuss a lot sorry folks, neither is discussed in detail but it's assumed its a possibility/inevitability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:27:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26151886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovelyziam/pseuds/Lovelyziam
Summary: “Save it,” Zayn cut in. “We don’t have time to unpack your superiority complex and how it manifests in ugly ways. Help isn’t coming, apparently, and the last place I want to be is trapped in a five foot cell with you. Can we focus on escaping,thenwe can have your little heart to heart?”He turned to Liam with raised eyebrows, a no-no sense look lining his features. Liam wanted to push back—wanted to make a childish retort about himnothaving a superiority complex, and Zayn just beingimpossibleto get along with—but he didn’t. Instead, he swallowed down the words trying to push themselves out and shook his head.“Fine. But just so we’re clear, I donothave a superiority complex.” Okay, so Liam wasn’t perfect. He still felt like the words needed to be said.Zayn let out a harsh snort, rolling his eyes before moving towards the bars enclosing them. “Whatever you say.”
Relationships: Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Comments: 16
Kudos: 57
Collections: Ziam Fantasy Fest





	Just When I'm Finding it Hard to Breath (You Lift the Weight Inside of Me)

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Grafitti6's [Annie You Save Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9iaU3WAOACo), which I'm absolutely in love with and highly recommend you listen to.
> 
> For the Fantasy Fest Prompt #38: Liam and Zayn are both superheroes who have been rivals forever. Liam thinks Zayn is too brash and impulsive. Zayn thinks Liam is too much of a boy scout and needs to loosen up. They each try to one up each other and get to crime/incidents first. Lots of banter. Until they're both taken by a supervillain and have to work together to escape and stop his plan. And to my prompter: I'm so sorry. I tried to follow the prompt more closely, but I feel like it got away from me quit a bit and turned into something else. I'm very sorry
> 
> Also, I feel like its obvious once you start reading the fic, but I just wanted to clarify: I shamelessly made Liam Captain America, and Zayn Iron man for two reasons: 1. because I love those characters and I feel like Liam and Zayn are good fits for them and 2. because I'm really lazy and world building is really hard and I'm really bad at it (a fact that I quickly discovered while trying to write this fic).
> 
> I also wanted to thank the fantasy fest mods for putting this on, and everyone who submitted prompts. I'm so glad I got to participate in this, and I had a lot of fun writing this story!
> 
> Lastly, I would like to apologize in advance for how abruptly this seemingly ends, and my lack of expansion that happens about halfway through. I had a lot of ideas for where I would take this fic and how I would expand upon it, but life got in the way and a lot of stuff ended up happening in my personal life that prevented me from dedicating the amount of time I wanted to to this fic. I think it still manages to make sense, even if it does move at a faster pace than I wanted it to. I hope you all still enjoy it!!

Liam falls in love with Zayn the first time he sees him. 

Okay, maybe that’s a _bit_ dramatic, and even more untrue, but Liam falls into _something_ the first time he sees him. It’s strange to Liam, and he couldn’t even really say _why_ he felt so strongly for the man, what it was about him that made Liam want to hold his hand and make him laugh. Zayn was beautiful, and brave, and held himself so tall, so confident.

And then he opened his mouth.

Liam might have _still_ been kicking himself for his lack of judgment that day.

It turns out that Zayn is actually arrogant, selfish, and _impulsive._ He dives head first into danger with _zero_ regard for those around him. He goes into situations half cocked, practically oozing self-confidence and ego. He never sticks to a plan, never even deigns to come up with one _in the first place._

He drives Liam up the fucking wall. 

All of this, though, could be looked over—Liam could ignore _all_ of this and just go back to pretending like the man doesn’t exist if it wasn’t for one, very small thing: he was _always fucking there._ Every time Liam turns around, there he _is._ He was there when Liam tried to stop the villain who was hell bent on destroying the top forty floors of every New York City skyscraper—which is just…a whole other subject Liam doesn’t even want to _think_ about. The guy had been an idiot. Liam’s not even sure what that guys real plan even was—Zayn was there when that group of hippie witches tried to drain the ocean—Liam would never forget the lecture they’d been trying to convey to the people of the world about how cruel they were to the ocean, how they didn’t deserve it. Liam agreed with their message, it was there method that could use a little work—he was there when the giant moles rose up from the ground—hell bent on destruction and causing general panic—and he was there when the big fire...man...thing—look, Liam didn’t stop to ask his name, he was _trying_ to save half of the city from catching fire. It was a stressful time, and he had a felling the guy had some dumb name like “Fire Apocalypse Guy” or something. Villains having notoriously dumb names was actually something him and Zayn both agreed on—was attacking.

Look, Liam could go on. He really could. The list was _extensive_ and _infuriating._ Zayn was fucking everywhere Liam didn’t want him to be—which was honestly anywhere Liam was. Liam was more than capable of handling The Villain of the Week—yes, with caps; there were a surprising amount of people who felt like they had to _prove_ something, and something was almost always how much better they were than the rest of the human population—and he _didn’t_ need Zayn’s _help._ He needed a solid game plan, dedication, and an ability to kick ass. All of which he had _on his own._ He didn’t need, nor want, Zayn butting in with his brash words and unthinking actions. No plan was just that: _no plan,_ and Liam didn’t want to have to babysit Zayn while he was trying to _save_ people. It wasn’t conductive.

So that was the reason that Liam was really, extraordinarily _pissed_ when he was in the middle of kicking ass and Zayn’s grating, irritating voice popped into his ear saying—

“Wow, Liam,it looks like you might need to hit the gym more frequently than your current 12 hours a day program. Is it just me, or do your punches seem to be a bit lacking today? I figured you’d have this all cleaned up by now.”

Liam barely suppressed his growl. “This is a _private_ comm line, Malik. It’s for people who are actually trying to save this city, not for people determined to be nothing but an annoyance.”

“Awww, Liam,” Zayn’s voice came through, syrupy sweet and infuriatingly condescending. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you didn’t want me here.”

Liam landed an extra hard punch to the creature he was currently fighting with, sending it sailing backwards, pieces crumbling off of it as it went. When it hit the pavement, it shattered into a pile of clay and dirt. He took in a deep breath, straightening up and trying to find an inner calm before he set his eyes to the sky. Zayn was hovering about him, just _floating_ there. Not moving. Not helping. Just flying in his stupid fucking suit and making Liam’s life a general hell.

“Yeah,” Liam huffed. “And when have you _ever_ known better, again?”

There was a short, loud laugh in Liam’s ear before:

“I do always so love our chats, Liam, but some of us have a city to save. So if you’re done standing there admiring the clouds, I’d really appreciate it if you quit distracting me.”

And just like that, before Liam could come up with a witty retort or an angry barb, Zayn was shooting off into the heart of the fight, taking out some of the clay creatures along the way.

If Liam hit the next one hard enough to send his fist all the way through it’s face, well. At least that was one less they had to worry about.

°°°°°°

Liam didn’t usually work alone. Maybe he tried in the beginning, but it didn’t take him long to realize that his skills were better fitted into a team. A team that he could mend, and improve, and work with. A team that could help _him_ improve, help call him out when he was wrong, or when he wasn’t seeing the whole picture, or help in providing him with a tactical advantage.

Taking on bad guys was _hard,_ but it was even harder when you didn’t have anyone to rely on—which was _another_ reason Zayn’s arrogant “I can do bad all by myself” attitude pissed Liam off. What if he got hurt in the middle of a fight? What if his suit malfunctioned? What if he got in over his head? No one would know, and Zayn was too cocky to think that that would ever happen in the first place.

But that wasn’t the point. Liam’s _point_ was that he doesn’t work alone, but sometimes—times like _these_ —he really wished he did.

“Look, all I’m saying is the dudes hot, y’know? I understand if you’d want to be, like, all up in that. I’ve thought about it myself, actually.” Louis finished his statement with a shrug, before turning around and heading down the corridor like he hadn’t just asked Liam if he wanted to fuck Zayn while also admitting to wanting to _himself._

What the _fuck._

Liam trailed after him, mind still reeling from the—entirely one sided—conversation he’d just been privy to. When he finally reached the briefing room that Louis had just disappeared into moments ago, he had to take a deep, steady breath before entering himself.

Louis had a loud mouth, and a penchant for getting the group riled up. Even some of the normally no-nonsense personnel tending to get a bit carried away in Louis’ presence.

Liam secretly thought that was one of Louis’ superpowers.

When Liam entered the room, his whole team—most of whom had been present for the previous fight—were all gathered around in varying states of injury, but all still intact. Liam felt like that’s all he could really ask for, anymore, considering how dangerous their day jobs were. As Liam took in the scene before him, he couldn’t help but think about how _well_ they all worked together.

Niall was in the far corner. He was also the god of thunder. Or so he said. Liam was really confused about that since he, y‘know, controlled _lighting,_ not thunder. He actually asked Niall about that, once, but all he'd gotten in response was a hearty laugh and a jarring slap on the shoulder. Liam didn’t ask again.

Harry was standing next to Niall, the two engaged in conversation. Harry was a brilliant scientist, and _extremely_ well tempered. He was almost _too_ nice, but Liam knew it was just him trying to make up for all the damage he caused when he _wasn’t_ well tempered. His anger really came in handy during a fight, though, Liam had to admit.

Across the room was where Louis was standing. Louis was always insistent that he didn’t have any superpowers, he was just a really good shot. Liam wasn’t convinced. There was something about Louis that Liam was _sure_ was more than met the eye, but he hadn’t been able to figure it out. He was determined to, but he also wasn’t in any rush about it. He was hoping, with time, Louis would tell him himself. 

Louis was stood in his corner bickering with Rita, and Liam still wasn’t sure how he felt about her. He _liked_ Rita, but she was...hard to read. Liam was never sure if she was truly _with_ them, or just working with them until something better came along. She was aloof, but entirely talented. Her and Louis seemed to bicker more than anyone on the team. He wasn’t quite sure if it was friendly bicker or not.

At the head of the table stood Paul, who helped organize their little team in the first place. He was extremely level headed, and always looking out for them. Liam liked him a lot. He was the voice of reason to their sometimes unpredictable nature. He kept them all grounded, as well as made sure they were looked after when they went out into battle.

Liam trusted him, and Liam didn’t trust easily.

In fact, Liam probably trusted his whole team, and wasn’t that a shock to the system? As he looked around, he realized that these people have pulled his ass out of the fire on multiple occasions, and he’d trust them to do it over and over again.

“All right,” Paul called putting, drawing everyone’s attention. “Now that we’re all here, we need to talk about the skirmish that happened earlier this morning.”

Louis let out a loud snort as he took the seat next to Liam. “Skirmish,” Louis muttered. “You make it sound so trivial.” Louis sat up straighter, putting on his best posh voice as he said, “Excuse me, fellows, we need to talk about the wee little skirmish you and your friends had this morning. You know, the one that _almost leveled a city.”_ Louis' voice was dripping with sarcasm by the end of his little tirade, the posh accent dropping off at the end to try and get his point across.

Liam thought it was a bit over the top, but he also didn’t disagree. Shortly after Zayn had shown up this morning, they had all quickly realized there was more than met the eye; more to their little battle than they were privy to. It was almost like the fighting was a _distraction_ to something much bigger—to something no one knew about.

Looking up at Paul, though, Liam wasn’t so sure no _one_ was accurate, so much as none of them _except for Paul._

It was a little disconcerting, as well as irritating. Liam really, really didn’t like to be kept out of the loop.

“Yes, well,” Paul started, “in comparison to what’s coming, today _will_ look like a tiny little scuffle. You guys have a lot to learn about, so listen up.” 

There was a chorus of grumbling around the room, but despite the protests every one did seem to focus up; their sole attention directed towards the front of the room before Paul continued.

“The creatures you were fighting yesterday are called golems. There’s a lot of controversy over their lore. In some stories they’re seen as protectors, sent to make sure their keepers stay out of harm's way. In others, they’re destroyers. Controlled by someone who wants to wreak as much havoc as possible. No matter what story or lore you look to, however, they all have something in common: they’re controlled by something or someone.

“I don’t think the creatures you fought today were any different. I think someone is controlling them, but we haven’t been able to figure out for what purpose yet.”

“My guess is something evil,” Louis cut in. “The amount of dirt I have to clean out of my bow is down right _sinister_.”

Paul raised a single eyebrow, glaring in Louis' general direction. “Yes, Mr. Tomlinson. I’m sure the golems’ purpose today was purely to inconvenience you. What a cunning, conniving plot indeed.”

Louis shot a wide grin up Paul’s way, winking as he said, “Glad you agree, boss.”

Paul rolled his eyes in response, before completely ignoring Louis and continuing his briefing. “As I was saying, we haven’t discovered their purposes yet. We think they were just a distraction from the real goal of whoever’s controlling them. The golem seemed to be centralized to specific locations, spread out in a way that kept each of you busy and distracted long enough—and far enough away—for whoever this is to achieve whatever goal they were after.”

Paul turned away from them, bringing up an image on the screen behind him. It was a blueprint of the city: rough building layouts, the subway routes, and the sewage system all detailed. It also had the areas in which the golems had attacked highlighted, as well as where they’d all fought them in the streets. Liam hadn’t realized it when he’d been fighting the creatures, but looking at the map gave him a clear picture of what had happened today.

With a sinking feeling in his gut, he realized Paul was completely right. They _had_ been a distraction for the team, and it’d worked wonderfully. The team was scattered throughout the city, in varying places yes, but in a giant _circle._ They’d literally been fighting these creatures in a crude circle without even realizing it. They were all spread out enough, scattered through the streets enough to not realize it at the time. With the aerial view, though, it was easy for Liam to see.

“Now, like I said,” Paul continued. “We’re not sure what they were after, but we’re hoping—“

“What’s in the center?” Liam interjected. He had a feeling that whatever their mastermind was after, it laid right smack dab in the center of all the commotion today. It made sense. The team was scattered out enough that they wouldn’t be paying too much attention to the area, and all the civilians were actively running _away_ from that area. It was the perfect play, Liam begrudgingly admitted.

Paul frowned at him. “The center of what?”

Liam’s gaze shifted from the map to Paul’s face. He wasn’t sure if Paul was deliberately being difficult, or if he genuinely had no idea what Liam was referring to.

“The center,” Liam repeated. “You can see it on the map that, while we were fighting today, we were all spread out. Scattered to make a crude, circle like figure. So, what’s in the middle of that circle?”

Paul narrowed his eyes for a moment, his frown never wavering, before he turned to the image himself. He stared for a moment, trying to see what Liam saw, before he must have finally seen it because he muttered a small _I’ll be damned_ that Liam was sure no one was supposed to hear.

Looking around the room, Liam realized that maybe nobody but him _did_ hear it. Perks of advanced hearing, he supposed.

“I see your point, Mr. Payne. It does appear to make a circle. What’s in the middle of that, I’m not too sure. I thought it was just a bunch of office buildings being renovated, but that would...” Paul trailed off, obviously trying to put the clues together and come up with a plan.

But Liam was already starting to see the bigger picture. If those buildings were being renovated, it means they were most likely empty for a good portion of the time. Almost _anything_ could be happening in those buildings. Leaving whatever potential supervillain was hiding out there to his own devices, concoticing up some master plan to take over the world, wasn’t going to happen. Liam needed to get in there, he needed to see what was happening in those buildings.

“Sir, if I may?” Paul turned back around at Liam's voice, facing him. “I’d like to check the buildings out. See if I can figure out what might be going in. No official mission, just me trying to survey the buildings and see if this is something we might need to look into more. See if there’s something that _does_ require our attention.”

Paul was already nodding, clearly already approving Liam’s plan. “Yes, that sounds good. You all take the rest of the day to recover, gather yourselves and do what you need to in case we have to move quickly after Payne’s initial search. Payne, tomorrow morning you’ll head straight to that district and get a feel for what might be happening. You’re _only_ observing. Do not, under any circumstances, engage with any potential threats _without backup._ If you sense danger, or something nefarious, you _call for backup._ Do I make myself clear?”

Liam nodded. “Yes, sir.”

°°°°°°

So, maybe Liam should’ve taken Paul’s “do not engage without backup” pep talk a little more seriously. _Maybe_ he should’ve been more attentive to his surroundings. _Maybe_ he should’ve been more focused on the mission he was tasked with.

But, y’know, hindsight

Whatever, it didn’t matter now. If he ever got out of here—and that was a big if—he was going to blame it all on _Zayn_ anyway. Zayn, who had shown up, sans suit, in the middle of Liam’s assignment. Zayn, who had immediately gotten Liam’s hackles up. Zayn, who had so little regard for everyone else that he had _laughed_ in Liam’s face when Liam said that they could be in danger.

Yeah, well, who's laughing now?

 _Probably still Zayn,_ Liam’s mind supplies, seeing as how _Zayn_ wasn’t the one being held captive at the moment.

It all happened so fast, one minute Zayn was snarking at Liam, asking why he was lurking around abandoned office buildings, and the next there was a small army of the golem things, creeping out of the shadows and over taking the two of them.

 _“Where’s your suit?!” Liam shouted, trying to punch his way out of this mess. Fuck, where did they even_ come _from?_

 _“Where do you fucking think?” Zayn had shouted back, panic edging into his voice as the golems edged closer and closer. “It’s not exactly like I was_ planning _on being attacked today.”_

 _Liam let out a humorless snort, attempting to keep the—surprisingly fast—creatures away from Zayn. “You’re a superhero, you should_ always _expect to be attacked.”_

_Liam could practically feel Zayn’s stare on the back of his neck, making Liam hot and itchy and some other emotion he didn’t dare put a name to._

_“Did you just admit you think I’m a superhero?” The shock was clear in Zayn’s voice, and this was_ so not the fucking time.

_“This isn’t exactly the time to hash out what I think of you, Zayn.” Liam rocked his fist forward, sending a golem flying backwards. Horrifyingly, it got back up, seeming to regenerate the half of its face Liam had just knocked off._

_Fuck. They needed to get out of here._ Zayn _needed to get out of here._

 _“Get out of here,” Liam shouted, hoping that for once Zayn would just_ listen. _“Why are you even still_ here? _You’re useless without the suit!_

 _Liam heard a sharp inhale behind him, closely followed by a small, vicious_ fuck you, _but Liam didn’t have time to try and sooth Zayn’s hurt feelings, not when the golems seemed to be_ multiplying. Fuck.

 _If Zayn said anything else, if he even_ stuck around _, Liam couldn’t tell you, because in the next moment he was being overtaken by the golems, and then everything just went dark_.

And now Liam was here, in some dark cell, hoping that Zayn was smart enough to _listen_ for once and get away from the danger. Liam knew Zayn was startlingly human, the only thing allowing him to battle was his tech, his brain, and his complete lack of rational thought, most of the time, but just this _once_ Liam hoped he didn’t jump head first into danger.

He hoped like hell Zayn took off for somewhere safe and did the logical thing like _call for backup._

Of course, all that hope was dashed when he heard a voice from behind him say, “You’re angsting pretty hard for someone who was unconscious not thirty seconds ago.”

Liam startled a little, whipping around to face the voice. His heart sank to his fucking _knees_ when he saw Zayn’s dirty, scratched face looking back at him.

“Why didn’t you _run?!”_

Zayn narrowed his eyes, an angry frown harshening his features. “And leave you to fend for yourself? I know what you think of me, Liam, but I’m not a _complete_ ass.”

“What I think of you has nothing to do with this!” Liam felt his frustration—see also: hopelessness, fear, panic—grow. “A smart person would have gone to get _backup!_ Would have gone for help! Would have realized that two people in a _cell_ can’t do shit!”

Zayn was outright scowling now, his anger and indignation pouring out of him.

 _Good,_ Liam thought, viciously happy he was affecting Zayn so much. After all, it was _his_ unthinking actions that got them _both_ captured and rendered them useless.

“Or, just maybe,” Zayn said through gritted teeth. “I realized that if they took you, no one would know where you are and there’s a significantly higher chance of you dying by yourself in here versus if you have someone else with you.” A sharp grin stole over Zayn’s lips.

Liam wouldn’t admit it, even under threat of death, but that grin _did_ things to him. Funny, warm things to his stomach.

“Your chances of survival increase even more if it’s me you’re stuck with.”

Liam felt a high, almost hysterical laugh slip out of his throat.

Zayn was mad. Absolutely, raging _bonkers._

“Oh yeah?” Liam questioned, his voice distant and sounding far off to his own ears. “And tell me, Zayn, since no one supposedly knows where I am—that I’ve gone missing—how _exactly_ are they supposed to find you?”

Zayn arched an eyebrow, looking entirely unconcerned. Liam wanted to punch him.

“You really do think so little of me, don’t you?” Zayn turned his head away from Liam, staring at the wall with an expression that Liam couldn’t make out. Zayn’s face was eerily blank—like if he let Liam see even a hint of emotion, it’d be game over.

“I sent out a distress signal before we were taken,” Zayn continued. “It didn’t take me long to realize that you weren’t going to be able to fight an army of these things by yourself, and I–“ Zayn cut whatever he was going to say off, wincing a little as he darted a quick look Liam’s way. “Well, like you said, I’m useless without my suit.”

Liam felt a small curl of guilt take root in his stomach, feeling his own grimace take over his features. He’d been angry, and scared, and way out of his depth with these golems. He’d said harsh words to Zayn before, but this just felt…different. Most of the time, it was easy to tell that Zayn deflected Liam’s jabs and rude words. Like they hit his fancy suit with a small _ting_ and dropped right to the ground at Zayn’s feet. They didn’t mean anything to Zayn, normally. The man was in the media day in and day out—he was used to harsh words and too critical of judgment. The man made a _living_ off of people who hated him. Liam’s words had seemingly _never_ had an effect on Zayn before.

Liam didn’t understand what was different this time. Him and Zayn had been downright cruel to each other in the past, but now Liam felt…off kilter. _Guilty_ for the words he’d thrown at Zayn in the heat of a fight.

Maybe it was the dim lighting, the dirty cell. Maybe it was the bruising he could already see taking shape on the slope of Zayn’s cheek. Maybe it was simply that he could _see_ Zayn. There wasn’t a metal face plate blocking him from Liam’s view, he was just...a person who couldn’t hide his emotions behind a piece of metal. And when he _did_ try and hide his emotions, he had to work for it. He had to actively make sure his face wasn’t giving anything away and that...it didn’t sit right with Liam. It made him uncomfortable, and guilty, and it made him feel like _shit,_ even though it _shouldn’t._ It wasn’t exactly like Zayn would be winning any awards for how nice he was to Liam.

The more Liam thought about it, the more _uncomfortable_ it made him feel—wrong-footed, in a way. Like he’d been unbalanced. Guilt was something Liam knew well, but it was also an emotion that _festered_ inside him, festered so much that it manifested in…ugly ways. Most often misplaced anger, but well...no one could ever say Liam was _good_ with emotions. Most people would probably say he’s actively _bad_ with them.

Zayn probably didn’t deserve what came next, but Liam was helpless to stop his anger from bubbling over and spilling out, making even more of a mess of their already fucked situation.

“If you’re so worthless without your suit, how the fuck did you think getting both of us trapped in here was going to be _better?”_ Distantly, Liam recognized the words ‘worthless’ and ‘useless’ weren’t exactly _interchangeable._ He knew that later, when he was thinking more rationally, he’d have a nice, _long_ guilt sesh over using that word. Now, though, he was using anger to mask his fear and guilt, and that meant ignoring his harsh words and the broken look on Zayn’s face. “Now instead of focusing on saving the world, I have to worry about keeping you _alive_.” Liam felt his lips curl as he spit the next words. “But I guess you have always thought yourself above everyone else. I’m sure you’re not too concerned with the fate of the world, as long as you’re not outdone by me, huh?”

The look on Zayn’s face was no longer painted in hurt and anger. Instead, it was carefully blank, a not-quite-smirk on his lips as he said, “Saying that I’m afraid of you outdoing me implies that it was ever a concern of mine in the first place, and I can assure you it wasn’t, sweetheart.” He stood up, and the small fragments of light peeking in through the window threw his features into sharp relief. There were bruises high on his cheek and across his chin, a deep purple and sickly green; cuts lining his nose and extending up into his hairline; he was covered in dirt and the red clay-like substance the golems were made of. He looked terrible, and Liam couldn’t help but think he _still_ looked pretty all scuffed up and damaged.

He immediately hated himself for the thought.

“And like I said,” Zayn continued. “I sent out a distress signal before we got trapped down here. Backup will arrive shortly, and, though I have enjoyed this positively _warming_ conversation, that means you won’t have to worry about being stuck with my worthless ass for much longer.”

There was a low, smug chuckle that sounded from their left, throwing both Liam and Zayn off for a moment. When Liam looked at the source, there was a woman standing to the side of their cell, just out of reach of the bars like she knew getting too close would be stupid.

“That’s a nice thought,” she murmured. Liam tried to make out who she was, or any defining features, but her back was to the light in she was thrown in shades of dark, distorting shadows. He could just barely make out the shape of a smile curling her lips, a hood pulled over her head, and a sweeping, floor length coat.

If it was leather, he just might scream. What was it with villains and leather?

“But I’m afraid your backup won’t be coming,” she continued.

Liam saw Zayn’s fist clenched by his side, his posture going rigid as he stared at the woman in front of them.

“Did you really think I would be stupid enough to not assume you’d try and call for help?” She laughed, flicking a wrist out as she gestured at them. “Unlike the two of you, I have a contingency plan for everything. The minute you two were taken over, I made sure to leave just enough of a trail that your rescue team would go sniffing in the _opposite_ direction.”

“Great,” Liam snapped. “So now you’ve got us. We’re completely at your mercy. So what do you _want?”_

Her tinkling laughter set Liam’s teeth on edge. There was something decidedly….unsettling about it. “Isn’t it obvious? I want what most so-called villains want.” She took a small step forward, shifting the light over her features until Liam could make out cruel blue eyes, and bright red lips. The smile that curled over her lips was just as unsettling as her laugh. “I want power. I want _you_ _two”_ —said with so much venom Liam was surprised it wasn’t dripping from her mouth—“out of the way so I can get it.”

A tendril of confusion started curling its way around Liam’s mind. Why did she want both him and Zayn _specifically_ out of the way? What about the rest of the heroes who had surfaced in recent years? They had just as good of a chance of stopping her as him and Zayn—two people who didn’t like each other enough to even attempt to call a truce, let alone actively work together. If anything, the rest of Liam’s team was probably _grateful_ for the lack of animosity he and Zayn tended to cause whenever they occupied the same airspace. They’d be able to work together without having to worry about making sure Liam stuck to the plan instead of going AWOL trying to make sure Zayn didn’t do something catastrophic.

“That makes no sense,” Liam said. “Taking the two of us off the field still leaves a bunch of superheroes who have sworn to protect the people of this world. You won’t be able to accomplish anything if your big plan is to take the two of us out of play.”

The woman just laughed, her unnaturally blue eyes boring into Liam. “Small minds,” she murmured, and then turned on her heel, leaving them both staring after her.

“What the fuck,” Zayn muttered, still staring at the space the woman had just vacated. He looked like he was trying to puzzle through a riddle she hadn’t even given them.

Liam was starting to get a headache.

“So much for backup, huh?” He said, the words seemingly echoing in the small space between him and Zayn.

Zayn’s shoulders seemed to draw upwards, his entire body tensing as of readying for a fight. “Yeah,” Zayn agreed. “And I suppose that means I’ll receive another lecture about my careless actions and general worthlessness?”

Liam winced, regret and guilt forming a heavy ball in his gut. “L-look, Zayn, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–“

“Save it,” Zayn cut in. “We don’t have time to unpack your superiority complex and how it manifests in ugly ways. Help isn’t coming, apparently, and the last place I want to be is trapped in a five foot cell with you. Can we focus on escaping, _then_ we can have your little heart to heart?”

He turned to Liam with raised eyebrows, a no-no sense look lining his features. Liam wanted to push back—wanted to make a childish retort about him _not_ having a superiority complex, and Zayn just being _impossible_ to get along with—but he didn’t. Instead, he swallowed down the words trying to push themselves out and shook his head.

“Fine. But just so we’re clear, I do _not_ have a superiority complex.” Okay, so Liam wasn’t perfect. He still felt like the words needed to be said.

Zayn let out a harsh snort, rolling his eyes before moving towards the bars enclosing them. “Whatever you say.”

Liam felt his eyes narrow on Zayn’s form, but he refrained from snapping back. No matter how much Liam hated to admit it, Zayn was right. Trying to find a way out came first, and in order to do that they’d have to work together. And in order to do _that_ they'd have to stop fighting _for two damn seconds._

Liam wasn’t sure they could do it, honestly.

°°°°°°

Two hours later found them still locked in the cell, with no immediate escape plan. Liam was growing more frustrated by the minute, and he could tell Zayn was, too. It was becoming increasingly harder to hold his tongue, and he could tell Zayn was also struggling to keep his temper in check. It made Liam feel slightly better that he wasn’t the only one attempting to be civil, but still struggling. Liam really didn’t want to think too much about what that said about them—the fact that it was a greater effort to remain calm instead of lashing out at each other.

Liam let out a loud sigh, tucking his head into his knees and wrapping his arms around them. No one had so much as _checked_ on them in the last two hours. They were never going to get out of here. He was going to die in this cell.

Zayn sucked in a loud breath across from him, causing Liam to look up at him. When he did, their eyes met and there was a small fire dancing behind Zayn’s. Oh. Maybe Liam had said that last bit out loud, then.

“Well maybe we’d find a way out of here faster if you would _actually help,_ ” Zayn practically spat, and Liam sat up straighter, the familiar thrum of anger and an approaching fight working its way through his veins.

“Listen, pal–“ Liam began, only to cut himself off at the sound of approaching footsteps. Zayn must’ve noticed the shift in Liam’s demeanor, because he, too, went still and started listening.

Soon enough, what was probably one of the woman’s goonies appeared in the dimly lit corridor. Liam cast a glance Zayn’s way, but Zayn was already focusing on the man approaching their cell.

“What are the chances he has some kind of key for this cell, specifically?”

Liam considered it for a minute. “Probably not as high as we’d like them to be.”

Zayn hummed, his focus still on the spot the guy had stopped. It took another moment before he said, “We could fake some kind of emergency? They obviously want us alive for _some_ reason. If not, they would’ve already killed us.”

Liam was inclined to agree. The woman from earlier had only said she wanted them out of the way for now, not eliminated.

“Okay,” Liam said. “So how do we play this? You pretend to pass out and I yell for help?”

Zayn shot him a glare. “Why do _I_ have to be the one in need of help? Why can’t you pass out and I call for help?”

“Are you serious?” Liam wasn’t quite able to contain the incredulous laugh that bubbled out of him. “They would never believe that.”

Zayn cocked an eyebrow, throwing an arrogant look in Liam’s direction. “Oh yeah? And why’s that, super soldier? Because you’re enhanced? Because nothings powerful enough to drop the mighty Liam Payne to his knees, huh?” Zayn took a deliberate step towards Liam, eating up all but a few small inches between them. “And what was that you were saying earlier about not having a superiority complex?”

Liam felt his jaw clenched, nostrils flaring. Zayn was smirking up at him, and Liam had to suppress the urge to punch him in his smug, beautiful face.

“It’s not about superiority, or me being better, or whatever the fuck you’re accusing me of. It’s because they knew enough about us—about _me—_ to take us down, so they have to know it’s harder for things to affect me than a regular human. I heal faster, I recover faster, and we’ve been in here long enough that if I suddenly collapsed it would be suspicious.”

Zayn’s gaze turned from smug to calculating, his eyes sweeping over Liam’s face, then his shoulders, dropping down to his arms and then his fists.

“Earlier you were too weak to attempt to use your super strength to try and bend the cell bars, or bust through the wall. Do you think you’re recovered enough now to do either of those?”

Liam had to blink a couple times at the abrupt topic change, but it didn’t take long for him to really start thinking about it.

After the woman had left earlier, Zayn’s first suggestion for escape had been by brute force, but it was obvious that whatever the golems had done to take Liam down had had a lasting effect. He could barely stand for more than a few minutes at a time, let alone attempt to use his super strength. But they’d been in here long enough for Liam’s body to start fighting whatever had been done; long enough that Liam could at least _attempt_ to break them out.

Liam shot a quick glance over to where the goonie was standing, not paying them a lick of attention, obviously secure in the fact that Zayn and Liam weren’t going anywhere any time soon. “It would probably be smarter to at least attempt it first. If we do catch the goonie’s attention and he _doesn’t_ have a key to this cell, not only are we still trapped in here, but who knows how he’ll retaliate.” He turned his head back Zayn’s way, just barely catching an expression on Zayn’s face that Liam couldn’t quite decipher, before Zayn was quickly transforming his face into something neutral. 

“Exactly,” Zayn agreed, finally taking a step back. Liam almost immediately missed his warmth, and then cursed himself for missing it. He was supposed to hate Zayn, even if they were in the middle of a tentative truce. Once they were out of here, they’d got right back to fighting and trying to one up each other. He wasn’t going to get attached. He _couldn’t._ It would just end in heartbreak. “Plus, if it works, we have the element of surprise on the guy. We could get information, then incapacitate him long enough for us to escape. Or, at least give us a head start on escaping.”

“Great,” Liam croaked, his cheeks immediately flaming at the rough sound of his voice. Zayn’s head snapped his way, something curious lingering behind his eyes as Liam cleared his throat and ducked his head. _Fuck_.

Instead of acknowledging Zayn’s questioning glance, or lingering over the reason _why_ his voice had just cracked, Liam took a step towards the metal bars caging them in. The goonie was far enough away that he probably wouldn’t be able to hear the groan of metal as it shifted, and he didn’t seem to be in any sort of hurry to check on them. Taking a deep breath, Liam wrapped his hands around two of the long pieces of metal, slowly applying more strength to try and shift them apart. He still wasn’t feeling completely himself, but he _should_ be strong enough to get enough space between two of these bars for them to escape.

 _Please let me be strong enough_.

The metal groaned under his assault, and Liam quickly looked up to make sure he hadn’t caught any unwanted attention. The goonie still had his back to him and Zayn, so he quickly went back to prying the bars apart. It required much more effort than Liam would have to exert on a regular day at full strength, but he pushed through the strain on his muscles and the black spots creeping into his vision. He was _so close_ . He just needed to get the bars a little further apart and they’d be _free_. Or, at least, free of this damn cage. The rest they could handle.

“Liam?”

Liam was definitely panting now, sweat breaking out across his forehead. He shouldn’t be feeling this _exhausted_ from a couple of metal bars. He could bend this in his _sleep._ Why was this so hard now?

“Liam!”

His vision was almost more black than anything else now, but he wanted to blame that on the dimly lit building they were being kept in.

“ _Liam!”_

“ _Fuck_ ,” Liam gasped out, his body finally giving out and causing him to crumple downward, already dreading his inevitable meeting with the floor.

Liam had a lot of muscle mass. Abruptly being dropped to the floor was _never_ fun.

Except, the pain he was bracing himself for never came. Instead, he was met with soft arms around his waist, a warm back braced against his own, and solid legs cushioning his fall.he looked up into Zayn’s soft, brown eyes. Worry was lining his features, and he looked like he was asking a question, but Liam couldn’t make it out. He should probably be feeling much weirder about the fact that he was spread out over Zayn’s lap, but it just felt _nice._ Zayn was solid, and warm, and _comforting_ , and Liam was really, really tired all of a sudden. He felt his eyes drift shut without his permission, but he realized that he didn’t _want_ to fight sleep. A nap sounded really nice, too.

“Liam!” And yeah, that was definitely panic edging its way into Zayn’s voice. It was enough to have Liam snapping his own eyes open, meeting the stricken look on Zayn’s face.

“‘M fine,” Liam mumbled, sending a wobbly, sleepy smile up at Zayn. “Jus’ tired, ‘s’all.”

A second later, Liam felt sure fingers carding themselves through his hair, and that was. That was _really nice, too._ Everything about what was happening at the moment was just really nice.

There was a soft, almost hysterical laugh from above him, and Liam wretched his eyes open at the sound. _Huh,_ Liam thought, _when did I close them again?_

“You’re delirious,” Zayn said. “Absolutely fucking bonkers. _Nothing_ about this is nice?!” Zayn’s voice got more shrill the more he spoke, and it caused Liam to frown. Zayn seemed really worked up, and it was nagging at Liam as to _why._ There was something there, at the back of his mind, letting him know that there was a _reason_ as to why Zayn was so panicked, but he couldn’t quite grasp it.

“We’ve been _kidnapped_ –” Zayn muttered, squeezing his eyes shut “–and he says this is _nice._ What the _fuck.”_

Suddenly, it all comes back to Liam in a rush. Where they are, what’s happening, and why he’s even in Zayn’s lap in the first place.

He’d _collapsed_. Fuck, he was in worse shape than he’d thought.

“Shit,” Liam muttered, struggling to sit up out of Zayn’s lap. “ _Shit,”_ he muttered again when it was becoming obvious he was too weak to even do _that_.

“Yeah, _shit_ ,” Zayn agreed, bracing a hand behind Liam’s back to help him up. “Don’t move too fast, you’ll make yourself lightheaded.” Zayn’s other hand came up to plant against Liam’s chest, keeping him steady once he was fully seated.

He was still sat between Zayn’s spread thighs, and that was a thought Liam had to determinedly place into a little locked box at the back of his mind and _throw away the key_.

“Bit late for that.” Liam brought at hand up to scrub at his face as a dull ache started at the back of his skull.

Zayn just hummed, the hand on Liam’s back beginning to rub in soothing circles. Liam wondered if Zayn was even aware he was doing it, or if it was a subconscious movement. “Well, do you want the good news or the bad news?”

Liam squeezed his eyes closed, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees and face planting into his palms. “Bad news.”

“I don’t think the space in between the bars is big enough for you to fit through.”

“Fuck,” Liam said, with feeling. “What’s the good news, then?”

“The space is big enough for _me_ to fit through, and I’m sure there’s something in that desk over there that I could use to pick the lock and let you out. Even better if that guy _does_ have a key to this cell.”

Liam's head snapped up to where the desk was across the hall. The goonie was still standing there, bent over the desk like nothing particularly interesting was happening around him, like him and Zayn hadn’t just been trying to escape right under his nose.

“How did he _not_ hear any of that?”

Zayn just shrugged in response. “I think he’s just really incompetent. Honestly, what is it with supervillains and their super incompetent goonies?”

Liam felt a startled laugh vibrate through him, shaking his shoulders underneath Zayn’s hand. It wouldn’t have been so funny if it wasn’t so _true._

“Okay,” Zayn said, sliding himself out of Liam’s space and standing up. “Then I’m going to go try and find something to get you out of this cage. I’ll be right back.”

He moved to step around Liam, but before he could Liam shot a hand out, grabbing at Zayn’s wrist.

“Wait,” Liam started. “You can’t go out there by yourself. What if he’s carrying some kind of weapon? You’ll get hurt!”

Zayn just scoffed, shaking off Liam’s grip on his wrist. “Please, Liam, I’m not _incapable._ Just because I don’t have super strength doesn’t mean I can’t handle myself.” He made to step around Liam again, but Liam grabbed onto his wrist once more.

“But you don’t have your suit or anything, you don’t have any protection, you could–“

“ _Liam,”_ Zayn cut in. “Would you fucking drop it about my suit? I don’t know what your obsession with it is, but, in case you’ve forgotten, it’s not sentient. I pilot it. _I’m_ the one making maneuvers in battle, _I’m_ the one throwing myself into the fray, _I’m_ the one fighting. My suit just _helps_ me do all that.” Zayn’s eyes are practically burning when he spits, “Despite what you think, I’m _not_ worthless.” This time Zayn yanks his wrist free from Liam’s grasp, stepping away and out of reach.

A clawing sense of desperation climbs its way up Liam’s throat because that’s _not what he meant,_ and suddenly _nothing_ is more important than getting Zayn to understand. He _needs_ Zayn to understand Liam doesn’t think he’s worthless, he _doesn’t._ He’s just worried. Zayn’s frighteningly vulnerable without the suit, and if that goonie has any kind of weapon Zayn’s at risk of being seriously injured and Liam wouldn’t be able to get to him, no matter how much he wanted to; no matter how much he _tried._ It made panic sit hot and _tight_ at the top of his throat, practically choking him.

“No, that’s not what I–I don’t mean you’re–“ Liam cut himself off, bringing both hands up to fist in his hair. Why was he so _bad_ at this? Why couldn’t he just _say something?_ Liam let out a soft, frustrated noise, tearing his hands out of his hair and bringing his no doubt wild eyes up to meet Zayn’s. “You’re just– you’re _vulnerable_ without your suit, and if something happened I couldn’t– I can’t get to you and you’d–you'd be–“ Liam cut himself off again with a choked noise, his frustration and fear threatening to drown him.

Suddenly, Zayn was invading his space once again. His hands came up to cup Liam’s face as he directed a serious look Liam’s way. 

“It’s okay, Liam,” Zayn whispered. “I can take care of myself. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve, I’ll be fine.” A wobbly smile took over his lips as he said, “I promise.” Then, just as fast as he appeared, he took a step back from Liam and was slipping through the cell bars before Liam could get his bearings together. “Be right back,” he muttered, and all Liam could do was mourn the loss of his body heat, his _presence_.

He felt bereft and scared and _empty_ and he couldn’t figure out _why._ Why Zayn’s proximity instilled such strong emotions in Liam when he didn’t even _like_ the guy. It was confusing, and frustrating, and Liam wanted to scream and pull Zayn closer at the same time.

He couldn’t do either at the moment, though, so he just watched as Zayn slowly approached the goonie, sticking close to the wall on surprisingly light feet. He held his breath when Zayn was an arms length away, watching as Zayn suddenly lunged forward with surprising accuracy to _climb_ the man, locking his thighs around the guys head and dropping him to the ground in an unconscious heap.

Liam was weirdly...turned on by the display. He wasn’t sure what was doing it for him, to be honest: Zayn’s competence, the fact that he took down a man twice his size with basically zero effort, or the wide, confident grin he sent Liam’s way. All Liam could do was stare back, mouth agape and eyes no doubt comically wide.

Zayn bent down over the man, searching his pockets for something before frowning and standing up.

No key, apparently. That was disappointing.

Zayn turned to the desk, rummaging around for a few minutes before sitting up with a triumphant ’aha!’ that Liam couldn’t hear, could only see as his lips curled into another infuriatingly confident grin. When he approached, Liam could see an old school letter opener clench in his fist.

“Told you I’d be fine,” Zayn snarked as soon as he was in hearing distance.

“You sure did,” Liam agreed, still staring at him stupidly. “Where the fuck did you learn how to do that?”

Zayn just shot him a wide grin, quickly working on the locking mechanism of the cell. After a series of soft clicks, Zayn let out another soft, triumphant noise and started shifting the cell door open.

Liam was _still_ just staring when Zayn entered the cage, quickly ducking down to where Liam was sitting, dazed, on the floor.

“Do you think you can stand? I don’t think we can afford to waste any more time in here. Who knows whose bound to show up.”

Zayn shot Liam an apologetic look before reaching forward to try and help him stand. Liam, still dazed and replaying Zayn’s cocky smile over and over again in his head, let himself be pulled to his feet, his knees only wobbling slightly.

He shook his head, trying to clear all Zayn-focused thoughts and trying to remember they were trying to _escape_.

“Thank you,” Liam managed to say, his body finally getting with the program enough for Liam to stand on his own.

“Don’t mention it,” Zayn replied, already removing himself from Liam’s side and stepping towards the opening of the cell, the letter opener still clenched in his fist. “I didn’t see any weapons on the guy I took down, but that doesn’t mean that whoever else is left in these halls _doesn’t_.“

Liam nodded, moving to the mouth of the cell as well. He couldn’t see much in either direction because of the lack of light, so he wasn’t entirely sure which way they should go. “I say we only engage if necessary, otherwise stick to the shadows and try to fly under the radar,” Liam said, and Zayn nodded, agreeing. “Any idea which ways out?”

“Not a clue. They blind folded me when they brought us down here,” Zayn responded, but he nodded to the left, where the now unconscious goonie had originally come from. “But since that’s where bad guy number seven came from, I’m going to assume that’s our best option.”

Liam nodded, heading out of the cell and sneaking down the hall, Zayn hot on his heels. They rounded several corners with no sign of any trouble. Liam couldn’t even _hear_ anything. It was starting to freak him out. It was _never_ this easy, and every instinct in him was throwing up warning signs. He pushed through them, though, moving as quietly as possible down corridor after corridor.

“I don’t like this,”Zayn whispered behind him. “Where _is_ everyone? We should’ve at least seen _someone_ by now.”

Liam just let out a grunt in response, not wanting to voice his own concerns, instead focusing on keeping alert.

“Real helpful,” Zayn muttered. “Cavemen like grunts. That makes me feel so much better.”

Liam cut a sharp look back Zayn’s way, and Zayn just stuck his tongue out in response.

“Real mature,” Liam said.

“Oohh, he speaks,” Zayn said back.

Liam opened his mouth to retort, but a sound from up ahead caught his attention. There was a clatter as something big and _solid_ hit the floor, muffled cursing, and the sound of thundering boots coming in their direction. Before Liam could fully react, the hall they were in was washed in an eerie red glow, a shrill alarm sounding from various speakers lining the building. It was something straight out of a cheesy action movie and he wanted to _laugh_ , he really did, except for the way his heart was trying to climb its way up his throat and panic was turning his veins to ice. Him and Zayn were so vulnerable. They were exposed on both sides of the long hall, Liam was weakened from whatever they had done to him, and Zayn was achingly _human._ If they had any long distance weapons—shit, any weapons at _all_ —him and Zayn were fucked.

With his pulse thundering in his ears, he reached back to grasp Zayn’s wrist, gritting out a rough, “ _run,”_ before taking off with Zayn’s wrist still in his hand. Zayn didn’t protest, didn’t even make a smart comment to him as they made a break for it, all sense of subtlety and desire to fly under the radar gone. The sound of their own shoes echoed around the empty walls, the noise of pursuit chasing after them and driving Liam’s already racing heart to new levels. The grip around Zayn’s wrist was shaky at best, but it was strangely grounding. As long as there was that point of contact between them, Liam knew Zayn was safe and that’s all that mattered.

If Liam ever escaped this god forsaken cement prison, he was going to have a long, hard _think_ about why Zayn’s safety was so important to him when he was previously so convinced he hated the guy. That would come later, though. Right now he just needed to get them _out_ of here.

They made another sharp turn down a hallway, flying by random doors and other hallways that led deeper into the facility. Liam was operating on instinct, and he prayed for once it wouldn’t let him down—prayed that he was leading Zayn and himself in the right direction.

After a few more panicked turns, Liam felt his heart soar in his chest. Up ahead he could see a set of heavy doors, sunlight filtering in through the bottom. They were _so close_ . Liam could feel the relief mixing with the panic, thinking if he could just get Zayn past those doors, if he could just get _something_ between Zayn and the immediate danger, everything would be okay. They’d be fine.

But of course, because the universe liked to laugh at Liam and his naive hopefulness, that didn’t happen. Instead, as they were closing in on the doors, the fast approaching footsteps and the metal clicking of guns sounded from too close behind them.

“Take another step–” a voice from behind them boomed, “–and I’ll blow your heads off.”

Liam felt his entire body tense up and him and Zayn both froze, slowly turning to face the voice behind them. The door was only twenty or so feet behind them, so close Liam could practically _feel_ their freedom looming. He looked to Zayn, who was finally starting to show the signs of their captivity. Underneath his purple and mottled face, he was ashen and pale. The bags under his eyes were starting to purple themselves, and in their attempted escape, Liam could see where some of the more nasty cuts had reopened, dripping blood down Zayn’s face. It sent a shock of upset coursing through Liam’s system; the desire to reach out and just _hold_ Zayn burning through his system like a wildfire. He just wanted to keep him _safe_ , protect him from all the dangers the idiot threw himself into head first with no regard for his own safety. Wanted to shield him from the harsh world they had integrated themselves into piece by piece.

Liam realized with startling clarity, standing there in the glaring red lights of a cement hallway, surrounded by men who wanted them either captured or _dead_ , that he really _had_ fallen in love with Zayn all those years ago when he was so convinced he hadn’t. Everything he'd read and heard about him before he met the man had endeared him to Zayn. He’d been able to see how _good_ he was underneath his bristling and brash personality. Upon their first meeting, Liam had somehow been able to convince himself that he’d been lonely for so long that of _course_ he would think he felt something for Zayn, even though he clearly didn’t. He’d convinced himself that he just loved the idea of Zayn, and that the person who lied underneath wasn’t even deserving of Liam’s time, let alone his _love._

But it was like the flood gates had been opened in this stupid, damp and dark hallway. Zayn wasn’t the reckless, uncaring person he presented himself as that first day. He never was, it was just a shell that he’d always used to protect himself—if he became the man everyone thought he was, then their words couldn’t hurt him any more. Somewhere along the way, Liam had realized that there was more to Zayn than just his cocksure attitude and smart remarks. Liam also realized that somewhere along the way he decided to bury that knowledge, along with his feelings, because it was just _easier_ . Easier to keep thinking Zayn was an asshole, easier to fight with him, easier to _blame_ him, than to deal with his own feelings, then to admit to his own shortcomings.

Easier to hate Zayn than to acknowledge that Liam could never have him because he was _too good_ for Liam. Liam’s actions over the last several years only proved that. Zayn deserved someone better, someone who wouldn’t act like a complete dick most of the time instead of dealing with their feelings.

Taking one final moment to memorize the cut of Zayn’s cheekbones, the slope of his chin, the delicate way his eyelashes fanned over his cheeks, Liam braced himself for the stupid, _stupid_ thing he was about to do.

“Zayn,” he whispered, trying not to move his lips too much lest the small army standing at the end of the hallway caught onto what he was doing. “When I give the signal, I need you to run as fast as you can towards the exit, okay?”

Zayn’s gaze snapped over to Liam, his eyes intense and questioning. Liam met his gaze head on, his own gaze confident and sure.

“I need you to promise me that you will, Zayn. Promise me that you’ll get out of here, no questions, no looking back.”

“Liam–“ Zayn started, eyes going wide and fearful at whatever he saw in Liam’s eyes.

“Promise me,” Liam cut in. They didn’t have time to _discuss_ this.

“Liam, I don’t know what you’re–“

“Promise,” Liam cut in again. His voice broke when he whispered out, “please, Zayn.”

Zayn focused his gaze on Liam for a few more seconds, before something in Liam’s eyes must’ve convinced him. “Okay,” Zayn whispered back. “Okay.”

Liam inhaled a shaky breath, soaking in the color of Zayn’s eyes for just a moment longer. “Thank you,” Liam murmured, before turning to face the men in front of them.

The corridor widened at the end, sweeping out into a v shape before splitting off into two separate hallways. It wasn’t exactly a large space, but there were still around 50 or so men standing in the mouth, their guns and gazes focused on Liam and Zayn. Getting their focus on just Liam for long enough to grant Zayn enough time to escape wouldn’t be easy, but he was sure he could do it. He only had to do it for a few seconds. He took a bracing breath and one sure step forward, saying, “now, Zayn,” as he transformed that step into a full run. He ducked himself slightly as he ran, preparing to tackle the man at the very front as the scattered sound of gunshots rang out.

The last thing he remembered before unconsciousness took him was the resounding _clang_ as the heavy metal doors swung shut and a resonating sense of _relief_ coursing through his veins, drowning out the ice.

°°°°°°

Liam woke up groggy and disoriented. Every single muscle in his body hurt, his head was pounding, and his mouth was so dry he felt like he couldn’t breath because of it. It was worse than any hangover he’d ever had, and he couldn’t even remember _drinking_ the night before, didn’t think he even _could_ get drunk anymore. He tried to pry open his eyes, but slammed them shut with a hurt sound when the overhead lights tried their damned hardest to cut through his brain.

 _Fuck,_ but his head hurt even worse now.

Instead of trying to open his eyes, Liam instead focused on his other senses. Whatever bed he was lying in wasn’t exactly comfortable. It was too solid and slightly lumpy, and weirdly small. The blanket thrown over his legs was scratchy and itchy, and the pillows under his head were almost more lumpy than the bed. His face felt swollen and sticky, his ribs were on fire, and his left hand was weirdly warm. But, like, in a nice way. His left hand was nicely warm. Not over hot and uncomfortable like the rest of his body. Which was weird. So his left hand was weirdly, nicely warm.

He gave it an experimental squeeze, only to realize he couldn’t form a fist because something was in it. Something warm and wiggly.

“Liam?”

Liam felt the thing in his hand twitch and squeeze, sending a shock of warmth up Liam’s arm. Without fully realizing it, he was smiling at the feeling.

“Liam, are you awake?” The voice croaked again, and Liam hummed in response. He would open his eyes, but he wasn’t sure if it was such a good idea considering what had happened the last time.

“Liam Payne, if you’re awake you open your Goddamn eyes right now.”

The voice sounded much less broken and much more angry now. Liam was tempted to ignore it, tempted to pretend like he _was_ still sleeping. It was too early to deal with an angry, disembodied voice.

“Liam, please,” and the voice was back to being soft, broken. Liam was helpless to fight against the small plea there.

Unwillingly, he pried his eyes open into the glaring fluorescents, groaning as the light sent stabbing pain into his eyeballs and to the back of his skull, making his headache ten times worse than it was before. When he glanced over to the left, trying to find where the voice was coming from, he saw Zayn’s small figure sitting in one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs. He was hunched over Liam’s bed, creases lining his face like he’d been leaning it up against the blankets. His eyes were groggy and his hair was sleep mussed, but what really caught Liam’s attention was his face. There were yellowing bruises along his cheek bones, scabbed over cuts healing across his jaw and forehead, sweeping into the bruises covering various parts of his face. His eyes were red with either exhaustion or barely held back tears—maybe even both. And when Liam looked down, his hand was tucked into Liam’s own, Zayn’s knuckles lined with bruises and more scabs. He looked _awful,_ but he also looked like he was _healing_. Like all the marks littered along his body had started the healing process a while ago, but just hadn’t had enough time to finish properly.

It caused Liam to let out a harsh breath he hadn’t even been fully aware he’d been holding, relief coursing through him fast enough to make him dizzy.

“You’re okay,” he breathed out, his voice garbled but understandable as he stared at Zayn, awe clear in his voice.

“Yeah I’m okay, you asshole. But you know who isn’t?!” Apparently it was a rhetorical question because before Liam could even try to open his mouth, Zayn was charging ahead. “You! You’re not okay you absolute _dickwad._ You’ve been in the hospital for six fucking days, unconscious and _broken._ The doctors didn’t even know if you’d survive surgery, let alone if you’d wake up after and I–“ Zayn cut himself off with a half choke, half sob, leaning forward to press his forehead into the back of Liam’s hand. “You can’t ever do that to me again, Liam. You _can’t._ I won’t be able to survive it.”

Liam wanted to ask what Zayn meant—couldn’t do _what?_ Save his life? Because Liam sure as shit _would_ do that again, Zayn’s preferences be damned—but he was afraid that it wouldn’t come out as more than unintelligible, garbled noise. His throat was really, _really_ dry.

“They pulled 42 bullets out of you Liam. _Forty. Two._ That’s _so fucking many._ You shouldn’t even be alive _,_ super human or not. But you got lucky, so damned _lucky_.” He brought his gaze back up to meet Liam’s and Liam felt a pang go through him at the pooling tears threatening to spill over in Zayn’s eyes. When he spoke again, they did spill over.

“And you can’t– you can’t _do_ that to me, Liam. You can’t look at me like I’m fucking– like I’m _important_ to you, like you might–might _love–“_ Zayn’s voice cracked over the word love, and Liam felt his heart try and jump into his throat with the way it breaks, “–me, even, and then…” Zayn trailed off, tears streaming down his face, leaving behind wet trails that Liam _ached_ to wipe away. Zayn took a deep breath, his gaze dropping from Liam’s to focus on his own lap. “And then toss yourself away to be murdered. It’s not– it’s not _fair._ ” Zayn squeezes his eyes shut, attempting to stop Liam from seeing the pain in them, even if it does next to nothing to stop the flow of tears slipping down his cheeks.

“‘M so-rry,” Liam croaked out. It hurt every time he pushed words past his too dry throat, but he _needed_ Zayn to hear this. “Coul-n’t let anyth-ing bad ‘appen to y-ou.”

Zayn’s eyes opened, his broken gaze connecting with Liam’s. He swallowed thickly—Liam could practically _see_ the effort it took—before extracting his hand from Liam’s.

Liam immediately felt its absence, and wanted to protest. He wanted to reach out and tuck Zayn’s hand back into his, but he knew that wouldn’t be smart. He wouldn’t push Zayn, not after what he’d put him through, and not when Liam wasn’t even sure Zayn _wanted_ to be here. Just because he’d figured out Liam’s feelings for him didn’t mean he felt the same way. In fact, Liam would actively bet he _didn’t_ since Liam had been, y’know, a complete dick to him the past few years.

Liam braces himself for the moment Zayn would get up and leave the room, but it never came. Instead, Zayn reached towards the table by Liam’s head and picked up a cup, bringing the straw inside it to Liam’s lips.

“Drink slowly,” Zayn murmured. “You don’t want to drown yourself.”

Liam snorted, but did as instructed, taking small, slow sips until the stinging in his throat went away and he thought talking might actually be manageable.

“I do, you know?” Zayn looked up at Liam’s words, and Liam took a bracing breath before continuing, flopping back against his pillows and focusing his gaze on the ceiling. “I do love you. I didn’t– I know I haven’t been–“ Liam cut himself off, feeling frustrated with himself. He squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on steadying his breaths before continuing. “I didn’t realize it, at first. Obviously. Or maybe I just didn’t _want_ to realize it, and thinking that I hated you has always been easier than admitting that I actually love you, all while knowing that you’d never love me back.” Liam let his eyes drift open, tracing patterns in the water stained ceiling, purposefully avoiding Zayn’s eyes. “And that always seemed to manifest in harsh words and anger that I took out on you–” Liam let his eyes narrow, “–not that you were exactly _innocent_ in the path our relationship took, but I...I’m sorry, for the part I played. For how cruel I’ve been over the years. You deserve better than that.” Liam finally tore his gaze away from the ceiling, focusing back on Zayn. “I know you’re upset with me about what happened, and that’s fine, you have every right to be, but I need you to know that if I got a chance to do it all over again, I’d do the same exact thing.”

“Liam,” Zayn whispered.

Liam gave Zayn a sad smile. “I realized that I love you standing in that building, staring down all those men. If I had the choice of risking my life to save yours, I’d take it every time.” Liam shrugged, averting his gaze once again. “Like I said. I’m sorry if I hurt you, but I’m not sorry for trying to save your life. I’ll never be sorry for that.”

It was quiet for a moment, the only sounds were his and Zayn’s steadying breaths and Liam’s erratic heartbeat thumping in his ears. Then:

“You selfish, self sacrificing _asshole_ .” Liam’s startled gaze jumped over to Zayn as Zayn stood up, leaning forward until he was looking down into Liam’s eyes. “You’re so quick to sacrifice yourself, that you never once stopped to think about what that would do to _me._ Did you ever stop and think for one second that _maybe_ I might feel the same way? That maybe there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you, no matter _how_ much you piss me off—no matter how much I want to punch you in your perfect teeth _and_ kiss you at the same time?” Zayn closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath before meeting Liam’s eyes again. “I know I’m supposed to be the genius, Liam, but you’re even more dense than I thought if you can’t see that I love you, too, that I’d do almost anything to keep you alive; to make sure you never had to sacrifice yourself for _anyone._ ”

Liam felt his breath stutter in his chest, hope blooming faster than he knew what to do with.

“You love me?” Liam asked, voice barely above a murmur.

“Yeah,” Zayn whispered back. “Against my better judgement, but yeah. I do.”

Liam felt a giddy chuckle bubble out of his throat as he leaned forward, fisting his hands in Zayn’s shirt and bringing him down at the same time. Their lips met in a soft brush at first, tentative and questioning, before Zayn must’ve decided fuck it and deepened it, tilting his head and _devouring him._ In theory, Liam had always known Zayn was a good kisser. He had a reputation for it, but theory and practice were much, _much_ different. Zayn kissed with his whole body, leaning forward to brace a hand against Liam’s pillows, the other gently cupping his jaw and tilting his head back to grant Zayn better access. His lips were soft, yet still demanding, and his tongue was making slow, thorough sweeps along Liam’s bottom lip, slowly driving Liam to _insanity._

When they finally broke apart, it was with one final nip to Liam’s bottom lip that had his pulse rushing in his ears.

Zayn gazed down at Liam, a soft look lining his features as it flicked over various parts of his face. “You look like shit,” he said, and Liam couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, I’m not surprised. Apparently I got shot 42 times.”

When Liam peaked one eye open, Zayn was glaring down at him.

“That’s not funny, Liam.”

Liam grinned. “Yeah, but you love me.”

Zayn rolled his eyes, shifting so he could cross his arms over his chest. “Yeah, well,” he huffed.

Liam’s grin softened into something softer, something more gooey, no doubt, before he shifted over in bed, patting the space he’d just vacated.

“C’mere,” he murmured, heart skipping a beat when Zayn gave in easily, climbing in next to him.

“You know you’re going to catch so much hell when you’re better, right? If you thought I was upset, you should’ve seen Louis. He was right pissed. He’s going to read you the riot act, I’m sure.”

Liam laughed, shifting himself until he could curl up into Zayn’s chest, ignoring most of his injuries that protested at the movement. “I have no doubt. Is it weird that I’m kind of looking forward to it?”

Zayn laughed, settling one hand on Liam’s shoulder, the other moving up to card through Liam’s curls. “‘S a bit weird, yeah. But I get it. It’s nice knowing people care enough to get pissed off when you try and sacrifice yourself.”

Liam hummed. “You’ll have to tell me about what happened, about how you guys got me out. I noticed you’re a lot more banged up than before.”

It was Zayn’s turn to hum. “I will,” he promised, leaning down to place a kiss against the crown of Liam’s head. “Sleep first.”

Liam just buried his head further into Zayn’s throat in response, drifting off to the gentle, almost rhythmic motion of Zayn’s fingers carding through his hair.


End file.
